


unexpected meetings vii

by Esmenet



Series: An Undetermined Number of Scenes from the (After)Life of Laura Hale [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Frenemies, Gen, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:54:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esmenet/pseuds/Esmenet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dead women talk amongst themselves. ("See, you should have stayed home that day. Smoke inhalation's gotta beat being torn in half.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	unexpected meetings vii

Well, looks like it's monsters' night at the dead girls' cabaret.

"Fancy seeing you here," Laura tells her, heavy on the spite. 

Kate, of course, just laughs, low and teasing. She was always too good at taking a joke. "I gotta say, death's a good look for you. Did you do something with your hair?"

Her uncle ripped a lot of it out when he was trying to tear her in half, but that doesn't show at all anymore. She checked. "...You could say. How's your lovely niece doing?"

Kate stirs her drink with its tiny umbrella, the clinking ice sounding too loud even over all the conversation surrounding them. Sore subject, then. (Somehow, Laura can't feel too bad about bringing it up.)

After a moment, she rallies. Same old Kate. "Oh, you know. Her classes are going okay, she's taken up archery again . . ." A long drink. Laura watches the muscles in her neck flex once, twice, again. "Fucking a werewolf."

"Shouldn't that be old hat for you?" It's a cheap shot and she knows it, but there are some things in life you just don't pass up. 

"Fuck off."

"Not yet, sorry." Because she can, Laura steals the last of Kate's drink. "Ugh, I still can't believe you like this stuff."

"Well, _I_ still can't believe all those times I called you a bitch, I was being literal. How's your 'abomination against humanity' gig going?"

Because she can (again; always), Laura twists a hand in Kate's hair and leans in close (closer than she should) to say in her ear "Oh, about as well as your hunting career. At least _my_ only fault was bad luck in relatives."

"Actually," Kate says, lipgloss glinting in the low light, "I think your problem is that your brother's a liar."

She's expecting anger, the white-hot defensiveness Laura's always had for her darling little brother. But no, no, she's burnt through all of that a long time ago. Back when she spent weeks feeling the guilt radiating off him like heat, like flames. "If we're playing 'spot the cause of death', I think our first stop should be my four-hour plane delay. But," and here she can't help herself, leaning in all the way to feel the shape of Kate's side up and down her body, warm and bizarrely comforting, "I'm afraid I've got to be going."

"Date with the devil?" (See, this is what she always liked about Kate. Woman has a comeback for everything.)

"Quite the opposite, actually. Hey," she tucks Kate's hair back, pulling her fingers free at last, "I'll let you in on a little secret. Usually when people die, they stay dead, right? But lately, the gates of hell are swinging back and forth so much they've practically installed a revolving door.

"Like I said, I've gotta go. —But hey. Wait a while, and maybe I'll see you there."


End file.
